


'Cause You Look Perfect to Me

by TheBlackWook



Category: Football RPF
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Protect Giorgio at all cost, Remember when he was "il brutto" of whatever football show I can't remember the name of, Sort Of, Team Bonding, They all are idiots and I love them, Truth or Dare, tssss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-07-12 13:13:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15995945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackWook/pseuds/TheBlackWook
Summary: When Giorgio is deemed least attractive of the team in a game of Truth or Dare, Riccardo takes it upon himself to show them all what he thinks of it





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, I had promised a more joyful fic than one where Riccardo is injured. That's why we're back in 2007 here, for Riccardo's debut against South Africa when most of the usual guys were not there, De Rossi captained the team, Giorgio began the game and wore number 4 (and not 3) and Riccardo made his debut. Huge shoutout to LeapAngstily whose fics are still amazing and who motivates me writing for this pairing. Thank you ! And now, enjoy !
> 
> EDITED 17/09 : I suddenly remembered Chiello and Monto played together with the Youth teams (especially the U21 tournament when they both scored during the semifinal against Spain) so I added a sentence to aknowledge that and try to make this mess a bit more logical, if there is any logic in that ^^' !

Riccardo is not really the type to play Truth or Dare and to mingle like that, like an immature teenager who still laughs at people having crushes or secret passions such as cooking, sewing or whatever this could be. To be fair, he doesn’t really know what he’s doing here, in De Rossi and Amelia’s room, sitting in circle with all the other players.

 _His new teammates_ , he has to remind himself.

It is weird and it makes him giddy and excited all at the same time. He _is_ an international player now, he is part of the Italian national team and he is representing his country. Ever since the call he had received from Donnadoni, Riccardo still have to pinch himself sometimes to believe this is really happening. When he first stepped in Coverciano, he felt like a little boy again, stars in his eyes and trying hard not to gape at every corner. 

He knows why he’s here, in fact. 

It is inevitable; he can’t really bail out for his first time. He has done his singing earlier this evening, singing the most ordinary song there is because, well… He is no singer so _Azzurro_ had to do. He thought that would be it for the night, they _do_ actually have a game tomorrow, no matter if it’s South Africa or any other team : they have to stay focused. But it’s not like he can really say no when everyone - literally _everyone_ – intend on playing Truth or Dare. 

And so, here they are, gathered round with smuggled sweets, courtesy of Gilardino, – who would have thought a world cup winner would smuggle sweets and not think about their strict diet ? - teasing, laughing and gossiping like schoolboys. 

It’s not really what Riccardo had imagined, but he figures they also need that to bond. All of them. And maybe, if he’s good enough, it will be different if he comes back with the usual squad of Buffon, Pirlo and the likes. Maybe it won’t, he is even fairly sure free time will remain as relaxed as it is now, if he believes De Rossi’s stories that the others have been dying to hear. He too was eager but never would he have pressed the matter like some of the other new players did. 

He is shy after all. Intimated, maybe. He is not sure.

He has not talked much so far, he only knows his teammates by name or from having played against them. He answers when he is talked to but he is sometimes at a loss for words when he tries to make conversation and he chastises himself afterwards for appearing like the clueless newbie. There is Chiellini – _Giorgio_ , he had said - though, who had been nice with him on the first day and surprisingly soft-spoken once out of the pitch. Riccardo honestly did not know him well apart from the fact they missed each other at Fiorentina – he was going back to Turin, he was arriving fresh from Bergamo – and that he was almost scary to play against with that burning passion in his eyes and the dedication he showed to his team every weekend. They did play together with the youth teams, but they had not had much time to talk together, they were hanging out with different crowds, Giorgio was already one of the oldest and most experienced.

He’s not that much older than Riccardo, really. One year older, in fact. But he had made his debut three years before already. He was almost part of the old guard, some joked. Crazy how debuting for the _Nazionale_ at a younger age made such a difference now… 

_(He would be seen in a similar position in years to come and it would feel weird to realize the tables have turned and that he became part of the elders. But that’s just the way football is, anyway.)_

It’s Zaccardo’s turn – he has worked so hard the last couple of days to remember all the names, and De Rossi is already laughing when the defender says _“truth”_ , glancing gleefully at Giorgio.

“Who’s the ugli… Sorry, the least attractive of us all ?”

It’s Giorgio’s name Riccardo hears as an answer before laughter erupts. He knows it is meant to be harmless, that no offense is conveyed – the Juventus player takes none as he blushes and laughs slightly with them, chastising the boys gently but, Riccardo is bothered, if only on Giorgio’s behalf. He finds it mean and cruel because beauty is a subjective perception, unique to each individual, after all. What pleases one may not appeal another. He doesn’t really know why he takes this so much to heart but he does. 

He shouldn’t, but he does. And he silently and politely fumes, not wanting to throw a fuss for his third day with the national team.

They move on quickly, other players’ turns coming up, new questions and challenges to be answered. But still, Riccardo doesn’t let it go. He spares a few glances to the defender who seems totally unbothered by the whole ordeal and it brings an unexpected pang to the midfielder’s heart. So that’s how he sees himself ? 

Riccardo takes another look at him. 

He’s not bad looking – far from ugly. He is… even cute, in his own kind of way. He may not have striking blue eyes like Riccardo has but his are soft - given you’re not his opponent on a pitch. And he does have a nice smile. A _very_ nice smile. Giorgio turns then, and he catches him looking, caught red handed like a kid stealing from the cookie jar. Riccardo is frozen for a brief second before he quickly glances away, trying to hide a faint blush. He did not mean to pry or to seem impolite by staring, his mother made sure he would remember that. He was no rude boy. 

He almost starts when De Rossi’s voice calls him. It’s his turn. 

“Truth I presume ?” the roman asks, as if amusingly bored.

It’s true Riccardo hasn’t asked for the other option of the game since they began. He is not much of a daring person. At least, not yet with them, everything is still new to him, he needs to process everything. But De Rossi’s remark cut him to the quick, he will not be seen as the boring boy, thank you very much. 

“No. Dare, please.” He answers smirking.

He kind of regrets it when he sees the wolfish smile he is given. It’s true that all the other new ones got an “initiative” challenge, in the same vein of the singing earlier on. And if De Rossi and Amelia whispering like partners in crime are any indication, this does not sound good. Not at all. 

Except it actually does, miraculously.

“Well, we can’t let you off the hook like that, it’s your first time so… How about a kiss ? Like… Kiss the handsomest of us all.”  
“A kiss ?” He hears himself ask.  
“You don’t have to do that if…” Gilardino begins but is soon cut off by Riccardo who is already moving.

He’ll show them. All his rage from earlier has transformed into determination, now, his mind only set to one goal. He can’t help mumbling a dozen of _“sorry”_ while pushing people gently. Again, he is no rude boy. 

Finally, he reaches Giorgio – who is still unaware he is going to be chosen in a second; probably thinking the guy next to him will get the kiss. He is not doing it out of pity. He doesn’t think he does. There might be something else in that, an unknown but exhilarating thrill. And the added bonus of being petty, a motivation not to be underestimated in any circumstances. And _yes_ , he looks sweet.

“Hey, Giorgio !” He calls to catch his attention.

The defender doesn’t even have time to register what really is happening that Riccardo’s lips are on his, long fingers grazing his cheeks. 

It’s nothing like short. 

The younger man takes his time and kisses him with utmost care and attention. He has never been kissed like that before though, he cannot say he has a great experience in this area. Riccardo’s fingertips are soft and it makes his face tingles in an agreeable sort of way. His eyes had closed themselves on their own accord as soon as he saw his teammate’s face getting closer and closer. And yet, he is stunned, unmoving. Never would he have expected to be kissed as the handsomest of the team. Never would he have expected to be kissed, like _that_. 

He wants to answer the kiss and forget he is not alone here and that twenty one idiots are ready to never let him live this down, should he ever choose to act. 

Before he can make up his mind, it’s over. Giorgio’s eyelids flutter and he lets shock wash over his face. He is breathless and he looks to Riccardo in utter disbelief. He only winks at him, smirking. 

The boys may shout and be obnoxious : he doesn’t hear them. Suddenly, there’s only Riccardo and no one else.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giorgio can't stop thinking about Riccardo and his kiss...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is dedicated to LeapAngstily who had requested it in the comments of the first chapter. This is also dedicated to her in honour of her first day in a new job. I hope you'll have a great day, dear, and I hope this little thing will help !

The locker room was filled with the clicking sound of their boots, changing from their training kit to their match kit. Conversations and noise soon died down when they all sat and Donadoni began his talk. 

Giorgio couldn’t seem o be able to focus.

He could hear the Italian coach’s words but he wasn’t listening. He couldn’t listen. He felt guilty about it and would almost blush if it wasn’t for his quiet and composed demeanour that kept the pretence of attention just right. He needed to focus, he was with the national team and it was a great honour, maybe the greatest he could think of. 

He caught sight of Riccardo listening intently to the talk, his eyes fixed on the coach.

His mind went blank again and images of last night flashed before his eyes. Riccardo looking at him several times in Lele’s room, his bright blue eyes fixed on his face with a curiosity Giorgio couldn’t quite place. Riccardo moving slowly from his seat on the floor and moving in his direction. Riccardo calling his name to get his attention right before he put his soft lips on his. Riccardo’s tender touch on his cheek. Riccardo’s wink. Riccardo, Riccardo, Riccardo…

_Riccardo._

Giorgio ghosted his fingertips against his mouth at the memory. He had lost sleep last night, the scene replaying in his mind constantly. Dreams had plagued him and he had felt stupid in the morning, feeling like a clueless and desperate teenager. 

He was a grown man for crying’s sake.

A grown man whose physical appearance was usually the target of jokes and unpleasant comments. But he didn’t care, he had stopped caring long ago. He had not clear blue eyes and a perfect face, so what ? He had lived the last twenty two years absolutely content and without giving any importance to what people had to say on his physique.

_(Except his mother, and she had been right, he wasn’t one to keep hair that long and neatly arranged like a reality show contestant.)_

Besides, he had never been alone bearing the weight of remarks. He always found comfort in knowing his twin had the exact same face. They both did in a way. 

So why was he suddenly so shaken up by Riccardo’s attention ? The kiss had meant nothing, right ? It was just all part of the game. So why not try to enjoy and pick a more attractive player, then ? He was at a total loss when he looked at him again, trying to solve the enigma that surrounded him. Suddenly, he wished he had spent more time with him with the Under 23 team. He almost wished they had made their debut together so that he was not already considered as part of the “old” nucleus of players. Almost. 

“Earth to Romeo.” Daniele elbowed him and he would have let out a sound if it wasn’t for Donadoni still talking, giving his attention to the players making their debut tonight. So Riccardo, amongst others, then. 

“Lele what the f-“

The Roman tutted him. “Giorgio, dear. As your captain for this international break, no swearing.”

“Says the angriest Roman I know and probably the _capocannoniere_ of swearers.”

They both hid their laughter behind a hand, trying to be as quiet as possible. 

 

“Ask him out.” He said later, when they began to line up in the corridors.

Giorgio almost jumped at the sudden conversation and what the words actually were. 

“Who ?”

“Montolivo ! Who else ?” De Rossi scoffed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He attempted.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you need to tell yourself. But look, he’s been hanging around you when he arrived, he looked at you for most of Truth or Dare and he chose you as most beautiful guy to kiss. I mean…” He paused giving him a pointed look. “That’s _something_. And you haven’t been totally yourself today. You know, just saying.”

“Oh fuck off, De Rossi.” Giorgio pushed him gently, a faint smile on his lips. 

The Roman simply shook his head, muttering something that sounded like _“Have kids, they said…”_ until they both quieted down as the South African team joined them and they were about to enter the pitch.

 

He was everything he had remembered from the youth teams and more. He was graceful, he a knight and the ball his loyal mount, following his every move like a shadow. He saw him accelerate to the goal, he saw him slow down the pace to change the team’s approach, he saw his precise passes - that were often not converted due to a lack in the attacking line. He looked as if he had done this for years, as if he actually was the “old one” and Giorgio was just the new kid. And yet, sometimes he caught his gaze and he could swear he was looking at a child, afraid and lost. But it only lasted half a second and then his focused demeanour was back. 

Giorgio tried not to stare. He really did.

After all, he had a game to play, a defence to keep, a goal to protect. He could not make mistakes, not even for a friendly. Otherwise, what was he doing at the highest professional level ?

But he did stare, he couldn’t help it. Once or twice, he caught him smiling and he felt funny in his stomach at the sight. How was that even possible ? This was an entirely different conversation and one discussed without De Rossi who kept giving him atrocious winks whenever he would pass by. Who said friends were everything, again ?

 

“For someone who didn’t know what I was talking about, you sure check him out a lot.” He told him during half-time.

“I am _not_ checking him out !” He hissed.

“Ah, but you don’t deny all the staring and your starry eyes, then ?” Daniele replied, amused.

“Has someone ever told you you’re an insufferable brat ?” 

“All the time !”

Giorgio shook his head. Forty-five minutes to go.

 

It’s still the same game : he tried to focus, do his job, but irremediably found Riccardo out of all the players ahead of him. It was easy to spot him. There was only one player capable to be this elegant in blue and golden kits, sweaty and tired.  


He is beautiful.

De Rossi really is an insufferable brat. Who may happen to be right. He can wait long before he’ll tell him so.

 

When Riccardo came off, Giorgio followed his moves, barely showing any tiredness. He looked around the pitch and he spotted Giorgio. They locked eyes for what seemed like an eternity and yet, it must have really been just a second. The midfielder addressed him a smile and the defender felt funny again in his stomach.  


He mentally listed the different events he could use against Daniele to blackmail him into shutting up. As if he would ever stop talking. As if he would actually blackmail someone. 

Once he had reached the bench, the rest of the match was a blur to Giorgio. He registered Lucarelli’s brace, even ran up to congratulate him along with his teammates, but that was about it. 

He did glance once or twice towards the bench.

He barely saw De Rossi raising his eyebrows suggestively; only Riccardo looking at the pitch with utmost attention and waving once towards him was of importance.  
Oh, he was in big trouble, he knew. He knew that perfectly.

 

“Just so you know, I’d advise to cut the pining and long heated gaze. Not sure I’ll handle it when you decide to vent about your i-don’t-know-if-he-likes-me-too crush.” Daniele told him when they walked out of the showers. 

Giorgio huffed and simply threw a moist jersey at his head. 

“I’m just saying that for your own good !” the blonde man protested. 

Sometimes, he really wondered why he was friend with him. 

 

Slowly, players finished packing and were emptying rooms at Coverciano one by one. It had been a short but good international break and soon they would all face each other in Serie A, put friendships aside for ninety minutes.

Soon, Giorgio would not see Riccardo before the return game between Juventus and Fiorentina. 

He had packed the day before, debating all night if he would actually follow De Rossi’s advice or not. Not that he wanted to give him that but it wasn’t a bad idea.  


Anyway, the worst that could happen was for Giorgio to make a fool out of himself, Riccardo laughing at his face and telling him it was just a joke for Truth or Dare, laughing some more and Giorgio ending up alone in life forever.

This was fine. 

Giorgio waited, and waited. The corridors emptying little by little, waving at his teammates or shaking their hands. 

Still no sign of Riccardo.

Giorgio began to worry he had actually missed him and he had just been waiting here like an idiot. He stood up and looked around, tried the parking lot but nothing.

“Looking for me ?”

Giorgio turned suddenly, letting go of his suitcase which fell to the ground in a loud thud. It was Riccardo, his bright – _pretty_ – eyes boring into him, a smirk on his face. He was quite the sight and Giorgio’s mouth suddenly ran dry. He didn’t know where to begin. Suddenly, all his well-rehearsed speech seemed to have vanished.

_(“Heeeeeey…… Ugh, no.” He made a face and concentrated again._  
_"Dear Riccardo...... No, too formal..."_  
_“Hi Riccardo, fancy a cup of coffee with me ?” He ended with finger guns, imitating their sound._  
_He let out an exasperated growl and looked at his reflection in the mirror. This was going to take longer than he had thought.)_

“I-er… I…” He began, searching for his words.

Riccardo looked at him expectantly.

“wouldyouliketogooutforcoffeesometimes?” Giorgio blurted out, nervous and looking at the ground.

“Sorry ?” the younger man replied and the defender immediately looked up into his eyes. 

He lost himself in them, diving head-first into their ocean colour. 

He could do it. Right ?

“I said…” he took a deep breath. “Would you like to go out for coffee sometimes ? With me, I mean.”

He gulped, fidgeting with his fingers absently while waiting for the rejection he was sure to receive. 

He could have fainted at the answer.

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

And there went the wink from that fateful night, just after he had kissed him.


End file.
